


Just a Break

by PeculiarProjects



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: After Freckles, Comfort, Crashsite Bravo, DeepTalks, Dom Tucker, Fluff and Smut, If you don't like smut the beginning is sweet, M/M, Mentions Caboose and Freckles, Mentions freelancers, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Wash, Season/Series 11, Wash being a hard-ass, Wash just wants to be a good leader, You can read the fluff without the smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 06:30:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeculiarProjects/pseuds/PeculiarProjects
Summary: On crash site Bravo, Tucker is done with Wash forcing him to train. Instead, he makes Wash take a break and they exchange words and a little more.





	Just a Break

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer not to read the smut but still are interested, read until "I'll take that as a yes," Tucker smirked again, leaning forward slowly."  
> If this was solely fluff, that's where I would have ended this chapter. :)

"Come on guys, get back to your exercises," Wash called out, but his tired voice gave away his true emotions. He was so done, but not in the sense that he was only sick of dealing with his irresponsible teammates. Wash was physically tired, and he didn't know when he last slept well. Being the leader of a group changed him, for better or for worse. He was so used to someone else--Carolina or York or any of the other Freelancers--prepping for enemies or deciding training regiments and delegating which jobs should go to who. Wash, as a Freelancer rookie, never would have imagined being in this position: commanding both blue and red soldiers, some who still believed there was a war going on with the opposite color. 

There was just so much to deal with. After crash landing their ship into some mysterious canyon, everyone immediately panicked. Chaos erupted in the way it usually did, and Wash was the only one who wasn't screaming and shooting recklessly. Then again, he was shouting for everyone to calm down and busied himself with not getting shot. These soldiers (or more like barely potty-trained children,) would be the end of him. Caboose was depressed by his supposed best friend leaving with Carolina. At first, Wash thought Caboose was jealous that Church was with Carolina now, but he soon realized the mourning was simply for Church's absence. Sarge seemed to be experiencing consistent PTSD from their training bases, convincing himself that the blue team was somehow favored in this situation, despite all of them being stranded together and that the war between the two colors continued, nevertheless even existed in the first place. Simmons blindly followed his longtime leader, and so it was difficult to separate the two of them. Grif barely did any work in the first place, and even if he was intelligent enough to know how the army's technology functioned, he likely would pretend not to in order to avoid the work. The only person Wash had especially high hopes for was Tucker. Tucker sometimes didn't act it, but Wash could identify a smart soldier. Oftentimes his intelligence was watered down with the inappropriate humor, but that became an acceptable addition to Tucker's personality. Wash would never admit it, but he found himself smiling at Tucker's jokes more than once. Of course, no one could see this within his helmet, so no one knew. 

Wash knew that Tucker wasn't good with technology. This was especially evident after he found him beating at the radio control panel relentlessly, attempting to "fix it." Tucker was significantly better in battle and could accomplish tasks when commanded during desperate times of war, despite not necessarily wanting to. 

Wash knew his best chance of survival in the future was Tucker. If he had to pick any person out of the blues and reds to watch his back in battle, it was Tucker. Although he felt bad that the assignments almost looked like busywork, Wash would continually convince himself that the training regiments and hard workouts would help Tucker be ready for anything. Wash wanted to help him be a warrior. He pushed down the part of him that said: "but you give him so many workouts to be close to him."   
He watched Tucker when he worked out, hearing the man's panting from through his helmet. Most of his day had become some form of watching Tucker.

For a little while, Wash increased the number of laps Tucker needed to run. He felt a little bad with the pressure he put on his friend, but he didn't back down on the number because he knew it would still help him, and it also kept Tucker away longer. Wash had begun to notice the longer he spent with Tucker, the more often he smiled. He had to suppress laughter more frequently than he found appropriate for his professional relationship. He wanted to maintain a normal distance with all of his comrades and demonstrate no favoritism. Tucker was no different. He also needed time to repair the radio to contact Command or someone that could hear their distress signal, and time spent watching Tucker wouldn't help them get out of the canyon. 

But Wash couldn't stop himself. When an event occurred that allowed him to be near Tucker for an extended period of time, he immediately took the chance without thinking about it. When he saw Tucker struggling with the last few of his laps, he ran alongside him, encouraging him to finish. Despite putting up roadblocks to force himself to stay away from the blue soldier, he always ended up discovering a loophole in his own rules and found himself spending more time with Tucker than any of the others anyway. 

In the distance, Wash could hear Sarge's bellowing voice demand Grif to "take action against those dirty blues," but his eyes were only on Tucker. He watched him struggling to do push-ups on the dusty ground. Tucker grunted each time he managed to push himself up onto his hands. His arms were shaking violently, and his movements significantly slower from before. Wash sighed, the sound louder than he intended and filtered through his helmet. Tucker dropped himself down, and at first, Wash's breath caught. He wasn't sure if his friend would get up, but Tucker's sudden stirring brought relief to the tension that had quickly knotted in Wash's chest. Instead of continuing push-ups though, Tucker stood up, a little wobbly from his evidently weak state.

"You know what? Fuck this shit. I'm done."

Wash hadn't heard any cursing from Tucker in a little while, so he wasn't surprised to hear it now, but he was surprised to see Tucker walking away. Wash had become accustomed to hearing expletives from him through all of the training. He never was sure whether that was from actual anger directed at Wash, or if it somehow eased the pain of hard work, but he never attempted to stop the swears because he continued to work. 

"Wait, Tucker, where are you going?" Wash acted almost stunned.

"I'm taking a fucking break because this is ridiculous and I am done!" He walked briskly back towards their temporary blue base. Wash needed to awkwardly jog a few steps to catch up to his friend. 

"Tucker, you need to keep training," he spoke blatantly, hoping a blunt truth would be enough to bring Tucker back to their routine.

"For what? An attack? No one's going to attack us. At least not someone we need to worry about," Tucker nodded his head in the direction of the temporary red base. 

"We're stuck here, and no one cares that we are! It would be nice to be able to walk around without needing to hold a gun. If I didn't need armor, and I could take a real god damned shower, that would be great! But instead, we are running drills and 'training.'" He turned back away from Wash and the white and yellow soldier's heart sank. Attempting to think of something better to explain himself with, he silently followed Tucker out of the sun. 

"I'm sorry, Tucker. You know I want you guys to be the best you can be. I shouldn't have overworked you." His voice was sad and apologetic.

"But that's not the complete truth, is it? It's more like you don't have anything for us to do to actually help us all get out of this canyon, so what we're doing is like the "busywork" of the army. And you didn't overwork me, I just don't like working for an end goal that isn't there," Tucker's tone ended on a bitter note, but sounded more defensive than actually upset. 

Tucker was completely spot-on, but Wash really didn't want to admit that fact. 

"Tucker, you know I'm a Freelancer, right?" 

"Yeah?" Wash still walked alongside Tucker, and he didn't stop until he was inside of the base. It was immediately more quiet than the sticky air outside, which seemed to thrive with extraneous noise. Tucker sat down on what seemed to be his bed, leaving plenty of space open next to him.

"I worked with incredible freelancers, like Carolina and York and Tex. These people were, if not are, the best of the best." Wash remained standing, and turned his head away, a soft smile playing on his lips. 

"Okay, Wash. Where is this going?" Wash realized that Tucker's voice sounded strange, and he turned back to see Tucker's dark skin and brown eyes. 

"What? I said I didn't want to wear my armor." Tucker raised an eyebrow defensively, holding his gaze firmly with Wash's yellow visor.

Wash couldn't help but notice the crispness in Tucker's voice. Although it was the same voice he had heard from the beginning, hearing it for the first time without a filter was shocking. Wash blushed a little when he realized he didn't say anything, still waiting to hear more words come out of Tucker's mouth. 

"Uh, I guess that's fine then," Wash spoke hesitantly, watching as Tucker began to pull off the armor from the rest of his body. He absentmindedly placed the turquoise armor beside him, filling up the space on the bed.

"'You worked with incredible freelancers...' C'mon Wash, it's like you got distracted by my gorgeous, heart-stopping face." He smirked, holding back a laugh. Wash couldn't stop himself from being proud, because that was the exact expression he imagined Tucker would have. 

Wash coughed a little and looked away again, staring at the nearest wall instead.

"Anyway, I worked with elite freelancers, all natural born leaders. I, on the other hand, am not. I was the worst of the freelancers, and that also meant I never led missions. I never planned missions, I just did what I was told and did it. Or, at least tried to." Tucker opened his mouth to protest, but Wash interrupted him before he could say anything.

"Just wait, Tucker. Before now, I never had any experience in leading. I pretty much was the Caboose of my group--no offense to Caboose. Then again, even he had more leadership experience than I did. Tucker, my point is, I just want to be a good leader for you guys, but sometimes I don't even know what I'm doing. I'm not a leader, even if I try." Wash stopped for a moment to hold his breath. This conversation was supposed to be a pep talk, or at least an explanation for the intensive workouts, but it turned into a sentimental spilling of concerns he should be keeping to himself.

"Wash, it's not like that at all. We all think you're a great leader. Yeah, we're all upset about Church leaving, but without you, we'd probably be dead already. It's a miracle you've managed to keep us all alive. Church couldn't even do that for himself." Tucker smiled brilliantly, and Wash couldn't help smiling as well. 

"I don't know, sometimes I just want someone else to take the lead for a while to get a break, but with this group, that means a killer robot named Freckles." They both chuckled softly. A comfortable silence covered them then, and after a moment, Tucker stared into Wash's concealed eyes. There was something hidden in those brown irises that Wash couldn't identify. Was it... Passion?

"You know what Wash? You gotta loosen up. You're so intense all the time, and like you said, you need a break. Take a break with me and we can pretend I'm the leader now." Tucker's quirky smile didn't dissipate.

"But Tucker, that's not how--"

"Nope, I'm the boss now and I say take a break. You deserve it. Otherwise, your perfectionism is going to blow your brain apart." 

Tucker took his arm and slid it across the bed, knocking all of his discarded armor onto the floor. The sound of the material colliding on the floor made Wash cringe a little, but he recovered quickly. At this point, Wash realized that Tucker was stripped down to his boxers. He silently reprimanded himself once he blushed, and sat down hesitantly after Tucker patted the now cleared space beside him. 

The armor surrounding his body forced him to sit stiffly. He wondered if they were designed like this on purpose, so soldiers would stand like they were supposed to.

"Please don't tell me you don't know how to relax," Tucker sighed, but his lips quirked in amusement. He knocked gently on the edge of Wash's helmet. At first, Wash was tempted to simply get up and leave, ending the charade of a break. But he didn't, because he truly did enjoy this casual comfort Tucker provided. 

Slowly raising his hands, he pulled off his helmet, revealing his face. 

Tucker stared at him, eyes wide. Wash's heart throbbed in his chest, and he was immediately concerned about his physical appearance. He probably was overdue for a bath, and his blonde hair practically stuck to his face as a result of helmet hair.

Tucker reached out and gently touched the soft stubble growing on Wash's face. Tucker's hand cupped around his chin.

"Y'know, this is the first time I've seen you without your helmet on."

"Likewise," Wash smiled, then wondered if he smiled too brightly and tried to stop his smile, but then it felt like he was frowning, and he tried to let his face relax but he couldn't with Tucker touching him so delicately.

Tucker leaned back, kicking his feet up to rest on Wash's lap. Wash accidentally breathed a sigh of relief once his friend let go of his face, but had to bite his lip when Tucker's heel sat very close to something swelling in size. 

"Aren't you stiff man? You can take off your armor." Tucker raised his eyebrow again. 

"No, I don't mind," Wash said politely. He didn't really want Tucker to see how his body was reacting to this situation. When he glanced over though, he was able to see Tucker in his now apparently large boxers. 

"Well, I'm the boss now, so I'll just have to help you with that." His voice wavered with laughter, but his eyes glimmered with mischievousness. Tucker returned to a seated position, leaning in close. His fingers danced over the armor just before he pulled sections of it off, then allowed his hands to continue to skirt across his muscles. Sometimes, Wash would wear clothing underneath his armor, but lately he hadn't, just because it was so hot where they've been. 

It was quiet: Tucker focusing intently on removing Wash's armor, and Wash trying not to breathe as heavily as his body encouraged him too. He swallowed hard, not believing this was real. Waiting for himself to wake up with a needy hard-on and a lonely bed. 

Soon, they both were both rid of clothing other than their boxers. Tucker continued his movements over Wash's chest and torso, each touch sending a shiver down his body and to his groin. The pads of his fingers followed every curve of Wash's body, tracing the hard-earned muscle. 

Wash clenched and unclenched his fists, controlling his breathing. 

Tucker's hands slowly wandered around Wash's body, gently moving down his back. He slowly pulled on Wash, his grip becoming more insistent. Wash subconsciously moved closer and found himself sitting on Tucker, legs straddling over his lap. Wash reflexively placed his hands on Tucker's shoulders, his thumbs stretched over his chest. 

One of Tucker's hands was removed from Wash's skin and cupped his cheek. His thumb brushed the freckles that were spread across his cheeks. The man couldn't help but lean into the gentle touch, closing his eyes for the briefest of seconds. He didn't know what he was doing, but he didn't care. Tucker was leading now and it wasn't his place to question what was happening, especially if it felt so sweet and kind and surreal and just GOOD. 

His eyes shot open once he felt lips softly brush over his own. The touch was gone as he instinctively pulled back, but the ghostly presence remained. 

Tucker's one hand stayed firm on Wash's back as his thumb stroked the side of his face. Lidded eyes met one another.

"Do you still want me to take charge, Wash?" Tucker whispered, dragging out his friend's name. 

Wash shuddered a little. He'd never heard anyone say his name like that before. 

"I'll take that as a yes," Tucker smirked again, leaning forward slowly. 

He parted Wash's lips with his own, allowing the kiss to last long. He moved slow, which made it easy for Wash to match his movements. He gripped Tucker's body tightly, which Tucker added pressure to Wash's body in response.

As their kiss deepened and they both tilted their heads to the side, Wash couldn't help but notice every point of contact they had at that moment. Their chests nearly touched, but Wash still sat on Tucker's lap, and the pressure between their legs was unmistakable. Wash rolled his hips forward before he could even think about it. Wash shivered again from the momentary bliss, and Tucker groaned a little into his mouth. 

As Wash repeated the motion, their kiss soon turned sloppier as Tucker inserted his tongue. His fingers also inched towards the edge of Wash's boxers.

Wash could feel the edge of the fabric being folded down. He lifted his weight a little to help, which pressed them together at the hip again. Tucker progressively rolled it down to his thighs, revealing his skin. 

It was a slow process, but Wash couldn't suck on Tucker's tongue long enough without being distracted from his fingers. 

The boxers were still on, but low enough that Tucker could hold Wash's ass tightly. His hands squeezed them apart, and the cold air made him whimper into their kiss. 

Fingers circled the rim of his hole, gently massaging the crack. Tucker nibbled on Wash's lower lip, the change distracting him just enough that he didn't flinch when Tucker's index finger entered his body. 

As soon as he realized what had happened, it was hard for him to focus on moving his lips because the movement of Tucker's finger seemed to be so much more interesting. It was a strange sensation, and it only got better when Tucker added another finger. He scissored his fingers, and Wash leaned forward breathlessly, allowing majority of his weight to rest on Tucker because he couldn't hold it himself anymore. He couldn't tell if Tucker was moving his fingers in a circle or curling them or what he was doing, only that he knew it felt amazing. 

Once Tucker had pressed three fingers into Wash's ass, Wash wasn't sure whether he should push forward to try and satiate his weeping cock, or push back to help Tucker penetrate his fingers deeper. 

Tucker curled his fingers quickly, and Wash couldn't stop his moaning. Tucker removed his mouth from Wash's swollen lips and began to suck on his exposed neck, which simply made Wash moan even more. 

"You said you needed help leading, right?" Tucker said in between kisses and various licks. 

He leaned close. "I want you to take lead." Tucker spoke quietly, his whisper tickling Wash's ear. The sudden halt of stimulation but the feeling of being full with Tucker's fingers almost made him cum right then. 

Wash couldn't bring himself to speak: he was so out of breath. So, he moved his hands down to grasp the fabric-covered bulge between them. Tucker bucked his hips in surprise, then smiled.   
Wash repeated the process that Tucker had done before, and he slowly rolled Tucker's underwear down his body until his cock was revealed. Tucker removed his fingers from inside of Wash, and the sudden absence was almost disconcerting. 

"Here," Tucker said gruffly, and he attempted to pull his underwear down the rest of the way. Wash lifted his weight and did the same, staring at Tucker's cock. He saw both this man's face and cock for the first time on the same day, but that didn’t change the fact that he had known him much longer. Tucker subconsciously held his cock, rubbing it to hardness.

They both were finally, completely naked. Which made Wash realize what they, in fact, were about to do. 

"Wait," Wash's voice trembled, and he sounded scared for the first time in a long time. Tucker stopped, startled by the sudden change in Wash's demeanor. 

"What if... Someone slips into the room?" he nearly whispered.

Tucker grinned widely.

"Bow chicka bow--"

"No, Tucker, seriously," Wash said in a normal volume, but a ghost of a smile hovered on his lips. 

"Don't worry, no one would question that even a leader needs to fuck around sometimes." Tucker's voice and humor were so familiar it made Wash's heart squeeze.

Wash said nothing in response but rolled his eyes.

"Well then, I guess we'll have to move quickly." Tucker winked at the double entendre. 

Tucker rubbed up and down his still hard cock, then held it for Wash. Wash warily moved forward so his hips were flush with Tucker's, then slowly sat down. He felt the tip of Tucker enter his body, and he thought of the curling fingers and shuddered in pleasure. He continued to push down, listening to Tucker's quiet sighs. Wash could feel the throbbing life inside him, making him much more full than before. 

Once the entirety of Tucker was inside of him, he held still, enjoying the feeling and getting accustomed to the size. 

After a minute or so, he could feel Tucker weakly attempting to thrust his hips up, but Wash's weight held him down. Wash rotated his hips in a small circle, eliciting a gasp of delight from Tucker. It took enough energy to not moan along with the man underneath him. 

"Wash, lead," Tucker gasped, and that was all it took to get Wash to move. 

Lifting his weight slightly, he slammed his hips back down quickly and lifted them again slowly. He squeezed his ass together hard as he raised his body up from Tucker's, allowing his inner walls to slowly drag up Tucker's cock. The pleasure blinded Wash. In the back of his mind, he was still baffled that he was doing this in the first place, but the part of him in the present couldn't stop the moans from spilling out of his mouth. 

He continued his treatment, allowing more and more of Tucker's cock out of his body before slamming back onto it until only the tip remained in Wash's body the whole time.

Tucker tightly held onto Wash's hips, brushing his hands across his chest every once in a while. Wash's hands were everywhere and nowhere: touching Tucker's face, chest, shoulders, stomach, arms.   
He was practically bouncing now, occasionally rolling his hips in odd directions. Wash noticed that Tucker made the most noises when he did that. There was a building pressure in the pit of Wash's stomach, and it seemed to increased significantly when he came down on Tucker at a certain angle. He eventually was able to achieve that angle more consistently, and he could hear a version of his name being choked out repetitively. 

Even when Wash's body was raised high, Tucker would lift his hips in an attempt to get even deeper inside of the man's body. 

The moans became louder, as well as the slapping of skin. 

Soon, it became too much, and Wash clenched tightly around Tucker. Tucker's moan became hitched and he gasped a little as white was unloaded into Wash. 

Wash continued to ride Tucker through Tucker's orgasm, but he came after harshly slamming down onto his cock. Wash's sticky cum spilled all over Tucker's stomach, but he was still coming down from his orgasmic high to notice. 

Circling his hips once more, Wash finally stopped moving, clutching desperately to Tucker. Wash didn't pull off yet, and he could practically feel the warm cum inside of him.

"Wow," Tucker breathed out."I like you leading." He laughed a little.

"Yeah, I take back what I said before, I like leading too," Wash laughed back.

"And I guess I like breaks. I should take them more often," Wash couldn’t help but add. 

"More like I'm taking you; bow chicka bow wow." Tucker's head fell back against the bed, but his grin was evident.

"Okay, that's it, no more breaks for you. Back to training." Wash sounded serious, but he laughed heartily when he saw Tucker's jaw drop and eye twitch.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I don't typically write smut and I'm currently still getting into this ship, so I hope this was in-character. Comments and kudos are much appreciated!


End file.
